Welcome to My Life
by Logo the Twin
Summary: Kenji Yasayuki is your average sophomore; or that's what his mask shows. Really, life seems to be a cycle of daily horrors. But one strange encounter seems to change everything.


Disclaimer: I own nothing

Dedicated to Mana Mihara and jbramx2 for their awesome support and persuading me to post this.

_You don't know what it's like to be like me..._

"No, it's okay Kenji, I'll get the dishes," the raven haired woman reassured her son.

Kenji Yasayuki knew better to argue. "Yes ma'am." He turned to his dad. "Can I be excused?"

"Hm?" he asked, watching his petite wife's retreat into the kitchen. "Oh, of course you can," Hira Yasayuki replied with a slightly forced grin.

Kenji smiled back weakly, muttered a 'thank you' and left for his room. Once out of sight of the kitchen, he sprinted the rest of the way to his sanctuary. Pulling the door shut behind him, he locked it. Trying to compose himself, he moved over to his radio, turning it on full volume. He didn't know what station it was on, nor did he care; he just wanted to drown out the world around him. It was a routine he'd done for years, but it never worked. He couldn't drown out his dad's slurred, enraged voice; he couldn't drown out his mom's angry, agonized screams. No matter what he did, the unwanted noises echoed in his mind's ear. It was a never ending cycle. Mom and Dad would yell, fight and scream at each other, then when Kenji would come in for a little while, they would have masks on; ones that said everything was alright. Then he would leave, and the screaming would start again. Just a never ending cycle.

It had been bad last night. He had even heard glass shattering. The redhead shook his head of those thoughts. Glancing at his watch, he saw it was 4:15. Numerous excuses ran through his mind of why his mother was forty-five minutes late for picking him up from school. She couldn't get off work; she had to pick up some of dad's shirts from the dry cleaners; she was hospitalized from last night's abuse; she was talking to Misao and couldn't get her to shut up; she had to buy more make-up.

He shuddered. It was sad. No matter how hard she tried, his mom could never cover up those bruises. Under all the foundation, those marks still marred her skin. He dreaded seeing his mom sometimes because of it. Kaoru Kamiya was really a beautiful woman. Long ebony hair, bright blue eyes and ivory skin. Or at least that's he'd seen from pictures. Kaoru Yasayuki was different. Her hair was dirty and unkept, her skin was scarred from various cuts, and her blue eyes had a miserable look to them.

Kenji stopped his pacing on the sidewalk. He needed to stop thinking about it. He needed to perk up. Hell, he need a therapist. He continued pacing as he remembered the time he had suggested going to family therapy. To him that was a living, hellish, fu

"Oro?" he heard something squeak. Though he might have imagined it. He did hit his head hard when that person knocked him down.

"I'm so sorry!" he heard the same voice squeak out. Kenji opened a blue eye to see a redhead man extend a hand to him. He took it, and the man hoisted him up with ease. "I'm sorry, I'm late to an appointment, and wasn't watching where I was going," the man looked at his watched and paled. "I'm so screwed."

Kenji watched as after another 'sorry' or two, the man sped away. "Hey, dude..." he yelled after the retreating figure, picking up something from the sidewalk. "You forgot your cell phone..." But the man was already out of sight. "Oh well," he said to himself, settling on a bench near the school. "Worry about Mom first, then that guy."

According to the time on the guy's cell phone, it was 4:30, and Kenji's mom was now an hour late. This was really getting fu

Kenji picked up the vibrating cell phone. Not thinking too much about who it could be, he answered it.

"_You're late, you're late, for a very important date! No time to say 'hello,' good-bye! You're late, you're late, you're late!_"

Quickly getting over his initial shock, Kenji said the first thing that came to mind:

"What the hell?"

"..."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"... this isn't Kenshin is it...?"

"... no..."

"... did a redhead run into you?"

"... yes."

"... thought so."

"... who is this?"

"... a friend of the guy who ran into you."

"... oh."

"... do you know how to use this phone?"

"Yeah, a friend of mine has one like it."

"So you'd know how to take a picture of yourself?"

"... why would I?"

"So when we call up Kenshin, we can tell him what you look like, so he doesn't go around asking people 'do you have my phone?' "

Removing the phone from his ear, he went through all 'those damn menus'. Taking a breath and settling into 'family portrait' mode, he smiled and snapped the photo.

A minute passed. Then two.

"Hello?" Kenji asked, wondering if he, unless it was a woman with a very masculine voice and in which case it would be _she_, hung up.

"Sorry 'bout that. We were giving directions to Kenshin. He'll be there in, say, five minutes?"

"Okay..." he replied as the phone line when dead. "That was screwed up..."

Sure enough, five minutes later a silver BMW pulled up near the curb. Kenji watched in mild curiosity as the same stranger as before emerged out of the car. He walked around the front of the car, and leaned against the passenger door, an identical look of mild curiosity on his face. Seeing as the man infront of him was content to just stand there, Kenji took a moment to scrutinize him. For some reason Kenji had expected him to be taller than he was. Maybe it was the sense of urgency and power that rolled off his figure; or maybe it was the ease in which he could pull a guy up.

"Kenshin Himura," he introduced himself, extending his right hand.

"Kenji Yasayuki."

They settled into another silence, each sizing each other up. Whereas most people would say they looked the same, the only real similarity was the head of long red hair. Kenshin had bright amethyst eyes, instead of Kenji's steely blue. The grown man also had a large cross shaped scar on his left cheek, while Kenji just had a scar above his right temple from when he hit his head on a coffee table.

"Why are you here?"

Kenji blinked. Of all the things he thought he would've been asked, this wasn't one. "Huh?"

Kenshin looked at his Rolex watch. "It's 4:30 ish. School got out an hour ago. Why are you still here?"

Again, all he could do was blink. "How did you know that?"

He gave out a laugh. "A friend" he paused a second, wondering if it was the right word, but continued on "of mine has a daughter who goes here, and I remember her saying 3:30 was too late to get out."

"Oh."

"Do you need a ride?"

Once again, Kenji blinked, wondering what was wrong with the guy infront of him, only to realize that the guy was too polite. But Kenshin must've been used to people gawking at him, because he was just standing there, fingers idly tapping his leg.

"Um, well, my mom was supposed to pick me up..." Kenji trailed off.

"Need to call her?"

"Uh, can I?"

"Go ahead."

It took a minute for Kenji to register that he still had the guy's cell phone. Muttering 'oh yea', he flipped open the flip phone, and punched in his mom's work number.

Awkward didn't begin to explain how Kenji felt as waited for his mom to pick her cell phone after being unable to reach her at work.

"Damn," he hissed as the recording started. Hitting the 'end' button and flipping it closed, Kenji threw the device at Kenshin. He easily caught it.

"Mom never goes anywhere without her cell phone," Kenji whispered to himself, his left hand gripping the navy backpack strap in worry.

"Do you want to call your dad?"

"No."

Kenshin blinked at the immediate reply. "Do you need a ride?"

"Where would I go? I lost my key..."

"I can take you to my office if you want." Seeing the dubious look he was sent, Kenshin went on. "From the way you talk about it, it seems as if your mom is usually late, so I doubt you carry money for collect calls. And since I have a phone you could use in a heartbeat, and I could give you a ride if you got hold of your parents..." he trailed off, and shrugged.

Kenji gazed at Kenshin. Kenji was a very good judge of character. He dumped many "friends" in elementary and middle school because he saw that they'd backstab him when given the chance. As a sophomore he didn't have many friends, but the few he did, he knew they won't drop him in the blink of an eye. He just hoped his 15-years strong luck wouldn't leave him now.

"Sure."

Rat hole. That was the first thing Kenji thought of when he entered the "office". It was a small room, only 10 feet by 13. The walls were lined with file cabinets and computer monitors and such. The floor was litered with empty food bags and old chinese take-out containers. The only light was from a single, bare light-bulb hanging down from the ceiling. Two people were in the room. One man sprawled on the floor, red pen in hand as he flipped through a mass of paper. Another was sitting cross-legged on an old swivel chair, hunched over as to be able to read his laptop.

"Finally!" the man on the floor yelled, chucking his pen at Kenshin.

"What took you so long?" the one on the chair asked, throwing an eraser between Kenshin's eyes.

"Oro..."

"Seriously though. They had to postpone the meeting, to everyone's unwantedness."

"Unwantedness?" Kenshin and the other guy laughed.

"Whatever. You know Hiko's gonna kill you though."

"Don't remind me, Sano," Kenshin moaned, rubbing his temples.

"Your own fault man."

"Shut up."

The brunette just stuck out his tongue, then caught sight of Kenji. "Eh? Whose he?"

Kenshin just seemed to remember Kenji was behind him. "Oh. This is the guy that found my cell."

"We know that much Himura. What's his name though?" the guy on the chair asked, rolling his ice blue eyes.

"Oh. Aoshi, Sano, this Kenji Yasayuki," he said, gesturing to the guest. "Kenji, this is Sanosuke Sagara," he gestured to the guy on the floor, "and Aoshi Shinomori."

Kenji looked at the two. "Hey." And then he continued looking at the dirty room.

Kenshin saw where his gaze was, and let out an embarrassed laugh. "I would've taken you to my real office, but it's clean, neat and perfect. This place has a homey feeling, even if it does look like a shit hole."

"I object to that," Sano yelled.

"He's right," Aoshi said. "It doesn't look like a shit hole. It is one."

"You're a shit hole!" Sano yelled, throwing a red chinese carton at the other man.

"Very creative of you, rooster head."

"Don't call me that!"

"Please excuse them. They enjoy making idiots out of themselves."

"Damn right," Sano agreed.

"Yea, why else would the guy have the Disney songs memorized by heart?"

Kenshin groaned and went over and jumped onto a file cabinet. "Better get comfortable Kenji. This could take a while."

With a shrug, the teenager sat down on a stool in the corner.

The argument about Disney songs had long since passed. Kenji was still in the corner, watching the three men. Kenshin was still atop the cabinet, some chips to his right and a laptop on which he occasionally wrote stuff down to his left. Sano had moved to sprawl himself on the couch, going through a new mass of paper. And Aoshi was working intently on the laptop, the glow from the screen reflecting eerily on his pale face. Every now and then another man, Hajime Saito, would come and take Kenshin away for a couple minutes. Kenji got the feeling this was the guy Kenshin was hesitant to call a friend. When addressing the wolf-look-a-like, his voice had an irate tone to it, and he made sarcastic cracks every other word. And even though the man would take away the only thing keeping him from feeling he shouldn't be there, Kenji couldn't help but enjoy the moments he was there. Sano would always have a lame comment to throw at Saito, who would retort in a heartbeat. Angry, Sano would throw insults at the man (occasionally a toothpick too), who, again, would return everyone in a heartbeat. Aoshi seemed to get along with the man the best, because all they would do was acknowledge each other's presence, then shut up. Amusing to say in the least.

"Say, kid, what time do you have to go home?" Sano asked, chewing thoughtfully on his newest toothpick.

Kenji gave a start, blinking sleep from his eyes. "I don't know."

"'Cause you know, it's ten past seven now..."

All traces of Kenji's doze-off vanished. A look of sheer horror slowly crept onto his face as he let loose a few explicites.

Kenshin jumped down from his post. "Need a ride?"

"And so you see, it's all my fault," Kenshin concluded, a sheepish grin on his face. "I'm sorry for being so irresponsible. I'm sorry for causing you so much distress."

Kaoru gave out a pained laugh. "You've been apologizing for the last five minutes, Mr..."

Kenshin blinked. "Oh... my name is Kenshin Himura. Forgive me for not introducing myself earlier."

Kaoru's mouth twitched, though you could tell she was amused by a sparkle in her eyes.

"You know you apologize too much, Mr. Himura."

"Sorry, it's a habit."

At this point Kaoru gave out a small laugh, which Kenshin replied with a sheepish grin. Kenji let a small smile appear on his face, too. He'd only heard his mom laugh on rare occasions.

"Would you like to stay for dinner?" Hira asked, a wide smile on his face.

Kenshin paused. He was already formulating ways to decline politely, but one look at the pleading faces of Kenji and Kaoru, he smiled. "I would love" The ring tone for 'I'm late, I'm late...' rang out, and the smile turned into a pained grimace. "too, but, apparently I'm late. Again," Kenshin sighed. After sending an apologetic smile towards Kenji, he was gone.

"No, Kenji, it's okay. I'll clear up the table," Kaoru told her son.

Kenji sighed. He should give up the nightly fight, but something prevented him from stopping. "Can I be excused?"

Hira smiled at his son. "Of course."

Kenji weakly returned the smile, and dashed to his room. Again, he locked the door and went to switch on the radio. Music flooded the room, but not before he heard a thud on the kitchen floor. His mother's body falling to the ground.

Stuffing his shaking hands into his pockets, he collapsed onto his bed.

Feeling a foreign object in his pockets, he pulled it out. It was a folded piece of paper. Kenshin had given it to him in case he needed him. Unfolding it, he saw a phone number. "Don't hesitate to call" it directed.

"_To be hurt, to feel lost, to be let down in the dark. To be kicked, when you're down, and feel like you've been pushed around. To be on the edge of breaking down, but no one's there to save you. No, you don't know what it's like..._"

"Hey Kenshin? It's me, Kenji."

"_Welcome to my life..._"

A/N: Again, many many thanks to Mana (for beta-ing this) and jbram (for persuading me out of using Enishi). I don't really know what to say, so I'll let you all ask the questions. I''m new to RK fiction, so, please, for my sake, point out any major mistakes I've made, so I won't make them again.

Note: To anyone who has/had to deal with domestic violence (whether it be you or someone else) I sincerely apologize if this has offended you. A friend of mine has to deal with alcoholism, so I know the fury you get when others make an inappropriate comment about the subject. If you are one of these people, and you find my writing inaccurate or something, please correct me.


End file.
